'Would it soothe thee to talk of it?' whined the old lady.
'No! no!' Azîz sat up in sudden anger. 'I hate him. I hate everybody.' Then, her own confused emotion being strange and new to her, she sought refuge with a whimper in her old sullenness.
'Ari! pretty one,' replied Zainub, relieved at something tangible. 'Thou art right to hate him. Yet grieve not, since he hath gained naught of thee. Thou hast passed him by scornfully.'
On the face turned to the dirty wall something like a smile quivered.
'He hath the pot--the Ayôdhya pot,' murmured Azîz half to herself. 'He kept that--he liked that.' The duenna beat her shrivelled hands together and laughed shrilly.
'Wah illâh! he hath kept it, sure enough, but he will rue it. Look you! I know not the ins and outs; yet will the pot bring him evil. Yea! even though he hath given it to the mem up-stairs.'
Azîzan was on her feet ere the words were finished, her eyes aflame, her whole figure trembling with excitement.
'He hath given it away! Mai Zainub, is it truth? He hath given it to the mems! Ah! how I hate them. It is mine! I will have it back. I will--I will.'
She flung herself once more on the bed, almost choking with her passionate cries, wild in her uncontrolled jealousy, while Zainub, mystified and half impatient, deprecated the foolish, impossible desire. Did she not want revenge? Well, the pot was to bring it about. It would bring money to the treasury also, and before that consideration what mere personal whim could stand? Finally, it was not hers, but the Diwân's, who had a right to let the pot go as he chose.
Azîzan's ultimatum came swiftly with a savage gleam in her light eyes.
'Then I will die; and others shall die, too.' The girl was no fool; she could see through the secret of Zainub's docility by the light of many a covert allusion of her companions to her strange eyes. Well, if the power was hers she would use it, so give her back the Ayôdhya pot or take the chance. Zainub crept away disconsolate; even with her life-long experience of the vagaries in which hysterical girls indulged she demanded shrilly of High Heaven if there had ever been contrariety equal to Azîzan's. To set aside the possibility of revenge! Still she must do her best, and if the mem had the Ayôdhya pot in the palace there was always a chance of being able to steal it. As a beginning she spent some of Chândni's rupees on sweetmeats, and, hiding the tray under her domino, set off to pay her respects to Mrs. Boynton's ayah.